Twisted Broken
by jaymelynn143
Summary: Bella has lived a life full of pain, regret, heartache, but the chance encounter to leave the past behind, can she move on without allowing it to come back haunting her.  Will she ever be able to trust anyone.  Is her life worth anything good?


Author Note: All of my characters belong to me, except for the wonderful cast of Twilight, they belong to Stephanie Meyer.

Beginnings….

There have been so many long nights in my short life that I don't know what to say about life itself. I thought that I had a tough life, but didn't know what else would happen to my family if I didn't work the streets. I hated that I had to resort to that kind of lifestyle. Yet, this was my life and I couldn't handle not having some money to live off of when I left my mom's house. As I come around the corner of the dance studio I notice her car already in the driveway. "Crap," I mutter knowing that she's going to flip out about me being gone.

"Where have you been?" she yells at me as she pushes 'his' hands off from around her waist. She starts coming toward me. I move toward the door thinking about running back in the direction that I had just come from.

"I was out working," I say trying to sound as calm as I could be. She stood still for a moment before 'he' spoke up.

"Baby, what does it matter what she does?" he questioned giving me an evil smile as he began to rub her back softly.

"Whatever, how much did you make?" she finally said as she sat right back down beside 'him'.

"I only mad fifty bucks, cops showed up and I took off," I said lying through my teeth know I made more than that and left on my own accord.

"Why don't you go into the kitchen and cook dinner?" he said as I was walking by them to go into my room. I slowly nodded my head and quickly dropped my bag onto the floor of my room and checked to see how Ali was doing.

"Quit playing around and get into this kitchen!" my mom yelled out as I was walking into the kitchen. Out of no where I felt a hand come into contact with my face. I had no time to brace myself and I slowly fell to the floor. My mom grabbed my hair and pulled me to the stove, shoving me into it as she grabbed my face roughly, "Don't make me wait for my dinner again or I'll show you how sorry you'll be when you come home!" She then slapped me again and went out of the room. I heard the bedroom door close before I felt 'his' arms snaking themselves around me.

"Don't," I quickly said as I backed into the counter to get away from 'him'. He was about to pull me closer when the door to the bedroom opened again and I heard the soft whimpering of Ali. 'Darn it,' I thought as I threw together a quick dinner and set it down on the table before her.

"You're not eating tonight," she said as she picked up my plate and dumped the food into the trash. I knew better than to question her so I nodded my head and went to the bathroom to check the damage. I could see several bruises forming on both sides of my face in the shape of handprints. I knew they would be hard to cover up in the morning, but quickly applied some cream over my face hoping to get lucky. I then cleaned up the cuts that happened in my hair from where she pulled me by the hair. It was getting harder to cover all of the bruises and cuts that she gave me all the time. I was worried as to why no one ever asked me questions about them. I knew very little about my father since I wasn't allowed to have any contact with him, since my mom thought I would tell him what was going on. She even told me that he wouldn't care because he never did come after her when she took off with me.

I tend to wonder why she took me when she clearly didn't love me or care for me. I waited until they were both in bed before I snuck into the kitchen to fix Ali something to eat since her punishment would be the same as mine – no dinner. I quickly grabbed a Sippy cup and filled it with some juice while a got a small banana and made her a little bowl of cereal. I knew this would be all she would have until she went to preschool tomorrow afternoon. I hated how my mom treated her, but couldn't speak up about it.

Sometimes I use to ponder on the way my life could have been if my dad had come after us or if he fought harder to keep me. I wouldn't be flipping on some dang corner, playing tricks because of my mother and her man. I couldn't think about any of that because I needed to keep it real for Ali, because my mom would treat her worse than she does to me if she had to take care of her.

I woke up the next morning to a huge raging fire; it was just outside the bedroom door. I tried to open the window, but was having trouble getting it open. Trying not to panic I can see that it had been glued shut. 'What the hell?' I thought. It wasn't like this the night before when I snuck out to get some food for Ali and me. Quickly I look into the crib to see that Ali was wide awake holding onto her little stuff bear that Charlie and sent me when I was a little girl. I grab the blanket off of my bed and look around for anything I could pour onto it to get it wet. I see my water bottle sticking out from under my school bag. As quickly as I could I poured it over the blanket, then I pick Ali up and wrap the damp blanket around us. I then put several pairs of socks over my hands and move toward the bedroom door.

I lunge out of the door like a cat being chased by a raging dog toward the small bathroom right across from our room. The whole entry way toward the front door was totally engulfed by the flames. I open the door and go straight to the bathtub. Thankfully it had a glass door instead of a shower curtain; maybe it will protect us a little better. I couldn't think that well, but knew I needed to get more water on the blanket to try to keep us safe. Ali was clutching the bear tightly a fazed by the whole ordeal that was unfolding right outside the door. I looked up to the small window that was in the bathroom. It was slightly open and I could hear voices on the other side.

"Are you sure?" asked my mom.

"Yes, I was sure that her window was glued tightly shut. There is no way that girl or the child is getting out of there," another voice said.

"What about my boyfriend?" she questioned.

"Don't worry Rene, he was dead before we left the house," the man replied. So it was my mother's doing that we were going to be burned alive. I left a few tears slip down from my eyes. I gripped Ali a little tighter to me as I listened to the creaking of the wood around us waiting until it gave way and crashed down on us. I heard the sirens coming up the street as I allowed the darkness to engulf me.


End file.
